The Guardian Angel ON HIATUS
by Penchant-for-raising-Cain
Summary: ON HIATUS TILL FURTHER NOTICE. SEE PROFILE FOR MORE DETAILS.
1. First Impressions:1992

**First impressions (1992)**

_...The redheaded girl peered up at the blinding light. She glared mercilessly at the rescuers. Confused and dazed, she lashed out; only to be betrayed by her cramped body. The police stepped back, not making any effort to help her..._

_Her voice was a hoarse purr, venom spat with every word. The officers then noticed her condition... _

_... But that wasn't what the police were staring at; it was the shocking white streak coursing through her blood red fringe..._

_..."What is your name, dear?" the lady officer said..._

_..."Riley," the girl whispered edgily, not wanting to strain her voice... "Please, take me somewhere – anywhere - where I can just live in peace. It doesn't have to be luxury, I can serve. I can make people happy."_

"Riley? We are here."

The soft voice of Qualish Wammy shook the sleeping girl out of her sleep. Riley's dreams dragged in the memory of three years ago. She shuddered, ridding herself of the cold nostalgia. _That is a past life, _she confirmed; _never will it happen again. I will be happy._ Riley opened her collapsible wheelchair. The voice of the doctor echoed in her mind: _"You can never really walk again, dearie."_

_Yes I will 'dearie'_, her mind voice said with contempt, _yes I_ _**will**__._ Mr. Wammy gently lifted her light body into the wheelchair, and they made for the huge iron gates. The words 'Wammy House' were stamped cursively in the middle. The proprietor himself opened the house door to its newest occupant. Thankfully, it was midnight, so no nosy children raced up to Riley, begging to know who she was.

"You do not need to take the test now. Have some rest. We can rank you later today," the old man whispered.

Riley shook her head, and replied, "No. There's been a lot of waiting in my life. I don't want to wait again. I'm finally here; my home. And this one test will determine whether I stay or not. I want to take it now."

Mr. Wammy peered into those hardened black eyes. They bore none of the blatant pain from the past. _Just like another child here_, he thought sadly. _Brilliant, but expressionless._

"If that is your wish," he conceded. The pair reached a grand oak staircase. Riley just stared grimly at the steps. Understanding her, Mr. Wammy helped the girl to her unsteady feet, and together, they spent ten minutes climbing the stairs. Riley felt a pinch in her pride, as she always does when someone has to help her.

A wad of questions was thrust under her nose. An ordinary person would have flinched from the sight of the test. Heck, an ordinary person would be tired at two in the morning anyway. Riley delicately handled the fountain pen, and started without hesitation. _Obtain the solution that satisfies the given conditions of the differential equation, dy/dx = tanxtany, y = pi/4 at x = pi/4..._

The grand-father clock chimed three o' clock when Riley put the pen down. Not once did she cross out or correct anything. The paper was sent over to a machine, and in a few minutes, it came back out again, marked. Mr. Wammy's eyes widened and Riley could have sworn that he staggered.

He adopted a neutral expression, and said, "I will inform you of your score later today. But now, I will escort you to your room."

Thankfully, there were no other stairs to climb, and Riley was happy about that. She slumped onto the bed, and looked around her sparsely furnished room. The only furniture was a single bed and stand, an alarm clock and an empty bookshelf. Riley made a mental note to furnish this room when she got the chance. Her eyelids finally gave way, and she fell asleep.

The alarm clock sounded at 7:00, telling Riley that she had one hour before breakfast. After her shower, Riley unclasped the large trunk. It was filled with new clothes, signifying a new life. Her body was now clad with a black t-shirt, a purple fleece over it and indigo colored relax fit jeans on her legs. Riley winced as her feet told her she can't stand any longer. _I wish I could stand for more than just a few minutes, _she thought_. I feel so pathetic._

Riley wheeled herself to the top of the stairs. She decided to wait patiently for a helper. Mr. Wammy was there first, and helped her down. She thanked him quietly, and proceeded to the table. Since Riley was new, she sat next to the staff until she was introduced. Riley silently poured coffee for herself, and absent-mindedly dropped ten sugars into the hot cup. The only part of her plate that wasn't left untouched was the sweet pastry. Licking her fingers of the residue, Riley scanned the room. _So, these are all the geniuses. They all look so normal for their intelligence._

The clamor of eating was soon over, and Mr. Wammy stood.

"Boys and girls of Wammy's House, we have a new member! Please welcome alias Riley!"

Riley froze. _How in the world did he know that was my alias?_ She thought, shocked. The room was filled with obligatory applause. Only a handful of people looked geniunely welcoming.

A question rang out from the crowd. "What's her rank?"

Mr. Wammy paled at these words. Riley braced for her number.

"One."

The whole hall filled up with silence. A butterfly's wings could have been heard at that moment. Suddenly, it was filled with fervent chatter.

"She beat L? No way."

"She cheated; there's no way she could have gotten such a high mark."

Mr. Wammy cleared his throat for attention. Obviously, his presence was still held in high regard, as the hall hushed. Riley's face was burning red. One? But, how?

"Contrary to your discussions, she has not beaten L. Riley fell a few points short of our current number one. But, her score was enough to gain her a joint number one rank. Congratulations."

Many hands and murmers of congratulations greeted Riley. All the way through class, Riley kept herself to herself. Teachers constantly asked her many questions, wanting to know for themselves whether Riley's intelligence is real. The last school bell never sounded so beautiful to her. Riley breathed a sigh of relief, and shut herself in her room after dinner. _First day_, she said. _So far, so weird._

The next day, Riley had a problem. _Damn kids_, she thought. _Why can't they see that I actually need help?_ Mr. Wammy was called away that morning, and now Riley was stranded on the top of the stairs, helpless. _No other eleven year olds get stuck in this situation._ Tears of anger reached her eyes as almost every orphan had past her without a second glance. She resigned to helping herself. _Why do I need to count on people anyway? Okay, I take that back! _Her hand promptly slid down the banister, her legs threatening to give way. Suddenly, a pair of strong hands grasped her. One held her banister hand, and the other was gently guiding her down the stairs.

All Riley could see of this stranger was a shock of black hair, blue jeans and pale bare feet. _Bare feet,_ she mused, _so I'm not the only one_. The person helped Riley slide onto the wheelchair, and that was when she got a glimpse of his face. It was pale, and his onyx eyes had beginnings of dark circles around them.

"Thank you for your kindness," Riley said.

The boy shook his head. "It was nothing. I thought you night need some help. Then you fell. What was I really to do?" His voice was carried in a near monotone, and was smooth as glass.

"What's your name?" Riley asked.

The boy was already walking away, but he turned. Somehow, from his eyes, Riley already knew who he was, and his answer only confirmed her assumption.

"I am L."


	2. Beyond Expectations: 1992

**I think myt readers are smart enough to see the pun. And to know which characters will be involved. Enjoy!**

Riley folded her arms. L shifted from one foot to the other, biting his thumb.

"So," Riley started, "You're the famous L. The one I nearly beat, and now kids hate my guts for it, and teachers view me like an endangered species."

"I'm sorry," L murmured, "If my existence caused you any distress. I'll go."

Riley's heart softened at the comment. "No, it's okay. Thanks again for helping me."

L obviously didn't' know what to do next, because another uncomfortable silence hung around them.

"Listen, L," Riley spoke again, "You know I'm knew and I don't have any friends yet. Do you…do you think that I could hang out with you? As a friend?"

L's expression changed. He started biting his thumb again.

"A friend? Well, that is new…"He looked up at the smiling Riley. "Okay, you can be my friend."

Riley inwardly sighed. _Thank God_, she thought. _I didn't expect to gain a friend ever in here, let alone the second day! _

So the pair entered the hall, an L sat, with his knees drawn to his chest, next to two other boys. Riley aligned herself with the table, and ignored L's weird sitting style. She examined the three boys sitting there. One was quietly eating his breakfast, hazel eyes fixed on the plate in front of him. His green long-sleeved shirt was spotless.

The other was the opposite; he was talking loudly to a friend sat in front of him, and was constantly supplying himself with jam. Strawberry jam stains could be seen on his black long-sleeved shirt, and even in his auburn hair. His brown eyes blazed while he talked.

And then there was L. Riley was surprised at how their eating styles were similar; both were only eating the sweet dish, and drinking coffee with about ten sugars each. He only greeted the other two, and then seemed to drift into his own world. He finished his 'breakfast' quickly, and sat to listen to the jam boy's conversation.

Jam Boy then noticed Riley. He must have recognised her from yesterday, because his expression turned from confusion to plain evil. Riley tried hard not to flinch under his hard glare.

"Riley, right?" his voice was low and challenging, "Did you know that you actually beat A (indicating to the other boy) and I in that stupid ranking?"

Oh, I knew it was about this, Riley thought. She brought herself closer to Jam Boy.

"I believe so, since I became joint first with L. Obviously, you were lower-ranked," she replied frostily, "So, do you have a name, or do I need to give you one? You know, being the best."

This egotistic personality was not real, as Riley was using it to get a reaction out of this boy. His brown eyes smouldered further. Nevertheless, he was still sucking jam off his fingers. L and A listened to them intently. The boy edged closer, and Riley feared that she might get a smack.

"My name is Beyond Birthday. BB, for short. And don't you _dare_ make fun of it," BB growled fiercely.

Riley allowed herself a half-smile of victory. "I wouldn't dream of it. So, you like jam?"

The conversation veered off this touchy subject of ranking, but Riley still got the impression that BB was challenging her. His eyes would narrow when she was talking, and at times a small grin would play across his lips. Both stood their ground, psychologically speaking, as they discussed intellectual issue. L and A just watched it like it was a game of tennis. _He who strikes first, wins_, Riley thought_. Or_ _she, in my case._

"So, why are you in a wheelchair?" BB asked, genuinely interested. He did not realise that he had touched a nerve.

Riley's eyes flashed a warning. "You don't need to know. The only thing you do need to know is that I can live a normal life. Don't think, for even a second, that I can't do something just because I'm in a wheelchair."

BB just stared at her, unsure what to say next. Oh great, Riley thought, he disagrees with me. She had seen it before. Other people have heard the same words, and everyone's actions were the same. Luckily for him, L came to the rescue.

"We need to go to class," he said quickly, tugging at BB's arm. BB gave a nod in goodbye to Riley, and followed L out.

Riley closed her eyes for a moment. _That was the wrong impression_, she thought ruefully. She looked at A, who was still sitting there. He seemed at bit shaken when he caught her eye. A hand ran through his sandy hair. He grinned apologetically.

"Sorry about BB. He's just...he doesn't like it when people beat him," A said, "Especially..."

He paused. Riley tensed for the next sentence.

"...people who aren't...you know..." A struggled for the right words.

Riley decided to finish it. "People who aren't perfect, right? I understand. A lot of people have said that to me. Look, don't apologise for him. Let him do that himself."

A smiled in relief. "Thanks, Riley. But he's my best friend, and I owe him a lot. So, yeah, I do apologise for his actions a lot."

Riley was suddenly conscious of the time, and quickly dragged A to class. As they ran, millions of questions coursed through her mind. _Why does A owe BB? What has BB ever done for him? And why doesn't BB have the courtesy to apologise himself? I'll figure it out later. Right now, it's school._

The teachers must have made a pact to push Riley until breaking point, even it was only her second day. Nevertheless, she rose to the challenge. At least the students weren't staring at her like she was an alien. Then it was time for Music class.

"Right then children," the teacher, Ms. Mitchell trilled, "I want to know if anyone can play the piano. I have broken my arm, as you can see. I need a pianist to play for me. Any volunteers?"

L nudged Riley, and whispered, "You can play, right? I heard to talking to BB about it. Go on."

Riley looked at him with wild eyes. "Are you kidding? I don't want to brag, but I'm really good! People will look at me weirdly again."

Unfortunately, Ms. Mitchell had heard the entire conversation. She strode over to their desk.

"Miss. Riley, why don't you prove to the class how good you are? Then, we will be the judges."

Riley's face turned scarlet. She wheeled herself to the piano, automatically ignoring the whispers of 'why is she in a wheelchair?' Her finger lay on the black and white keys, and instantly, her mind was transported back home. She could see her mother's smiling face whilst the music emanated from the piano.

With a breath, Riley started. _Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata_, she thought, surprised at her choice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the entire class awe-struck. She shrugged her feeling of embarrassment off, and delved further into the movement. When she stopped, Ms. Mitchell looked ready to cry.

"Such eloquence," she sniffed. "Such execution. Tell me, child, what grade do you play?"

Riley made a point to look away from L's smug face. _Yes, I know you were right_; she aimed a thought at him_. Don't let it go to your head_.

"I completed grade 8 ABSRM when I was seven. I started at five years old. My mother wanted me to play with the Philharmonic Orchestra, but I turned it down." Riley gave a small chuckle. "I told her that I will, once I reach university."

The look on Ms. Mitchell's face was so priceless, that Riley had to resist taking a picture of it. For the rest of the lesson, Ms. Mitchell insisted that Riley would play more songs. By the end, her fingers ached. Her feet ached more, as she wasn't used to so much foot pedalling.

"Hey, Riley!" a voice called down the corridor. Riley didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"What is it, BB?" she asked.

He came to face her, with a look of...guilt? His eyes looked down, as he talked.

"Listen, I want to apologise for this morning. I wasn't thinking, again. I guess that's why I'm only third rank. A shouldn't have apologised for me, it was my duty. Your mind is certainly beyond my expectations. So, do you forgive me?" he said.

Riley looked up at him. BB looked different to breakfast. His face looked more open, and the tone of voice had softened.

"Okay, I forgive you. Just, treat me as an equal, not a frail helpless girl," she said, offering a hand to shake.

BB grinned, and they shook hands. He spotted A, and bade farewell to Riley. She grinned herself. _Wow, another friend_. Somehow, L had appeared by her side. He was scratching his mess of black hair, and appeared to be talking to himself. Riley looked up at him, concerned.

"Hey, L, what's the matter?" she asked.

L jumped, like he didn't know Riley was there. He said, "It's strange. Mr. Wammy wants to see both of us. I cannot imagine why, though. Did we do something wrong?"

As if like magic, Mr. Wammy appeared. The pair froze, expecting him to shout.

Instead, Mr. Wammy said, "I found three boys. They look like they have been living on the streets. I wanted you two to stay with them, until I can bring a doctor. The youngest looks sick."

Riley and L nodded in acceptance. They stepped into the room to see the boys. All three were sleeping, wrapped in a soft white blanket. They all looked different. One boy, the oldest perhaps, wore black cotton clothes and a crucifix on his neck. His blonde hair was marred with dirt. The second wore a striped shirt, and had auburn hair, like BB. But it was the youngest that Riley seemed to stare at the most.

He wore pajamas, once white, but now caked with mud. He was barely an infant. _He looks about one_, Riley thought. _What was he doing on the streets?_ A small, pale finger was curled around a hair. And his hair was the purest white. _Just like snow_, Riley thought as L sat beside them.

**Yep, it's Mello, Matt and Near! *jumps up and down in joy***

**R+R, please! The next chapter shall be up, if my ADD allows it! - Penchant-for-raising-Cain**


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